


Recomposed

by orphan_account



Series: Rearranged [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Disabled Character, F/M, Flirting, Human Loki, Injury Recovery, M/M, Teasing, bigendered Loki, no actual nurse/patient play, nurse Loki, paraplegic!Tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1668713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony realizes he can't just re-enter his old life, so Pepper recommends the US Spinal Cord Rehabilitation Center. There he meets nurse Loki Orlov (sometimes Orlova), a very ... special person.</p><p>(I strongly recommend reading part 1 of the series, "Disassembled", before this.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rhodey, Pepper and Obie were all adamant about sending him to a hospital, or at least let a doctor look at him. At first he’d refused, and demanded to be brought home – he wanted to sleep in his own bed, be greeted by J.A.R.V.I.S., wear his own clothes, maybe watch some TV or tinker in his lab. But as soon as he arrived at his Malibu house, he realized that this wasn’t going to work, not with him sitting in a wheelchair. There were too many stairs, platforms and steps. The cupboards and most of the fridge were out of his reach. The tables were too high, the sofas too low; the bed too soft, the chairs too hard. The bathroom was practically inaccessible – there was no way he could drag himself onto the toilet, the sink was too high and he didn’t even want to imagine the logistics for taking a shower or a bath. No matter how much he’d felt at home here before, the house suddenly seemed to belong to and fit someone completely different. It still belonged to old Tony, who slept three hours a night (if at all), drank gallons of coffee and scotch, ate cold pizza for breakfast, invented weapons and didn’t give a shit where they blew up, as long as he was heralded as the greatest inventor of his time. Old Tony, who didn’t have shrapnel in his chest and a broken spine.

“We’re gonna need to do a lot of redecoration,” he murmured, trying not to let his desperation show in his face, but J.A.R.V.I.S.’ vocal scanners picked it up anyway.

“I am sorry, Sir,” the AI said as gently as a machine could. “Shall I begin making plans for the redecoration? To which parameters?”

“Take the architecture as it is and change it, so that it is safe and suitable for … my new condition.”

“Will you oversee the renovation yourself, Sir? Or shall I devise a list of architects?”

“Give the job to someone with the necessary credentials and if possible some experience with handicapped people.”

“Begin selection.” A few seconds pause. “Sir, shall I also search for a temporary residence?”

Tony bit his lip, hearing Pepper’s and Rhodey’s echoed words from before.

“Actually, could you patch me through to Pepper? I believe … she has something in mind.”

“Very well, Sir. Calling Pepper Potts.”

Pepper picked up her phone after the second beep.

“Tony? Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” he assured her quickly. “It’s just, uh, the house isn’t quite fit to be lived in by me yet, and maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to …” He trailed off, but he could hear her silence shift from concern to satisfaction.

“Do you want me to tell you more about what we had in mind?” she said calmly, but he could hear her pleased approval.

“Shoot.”

“Okay, since you didn’t want to go to the hospital and let the doctor have a look at your spine … Rhodey and I thought that maybe it would be best to enlist you to a facility special for injuries like yours. Also considering your VIP-status and the public interest in your return, we … Well, there’s an institution that promises high security and privacy for its clients. Wait a second, I have …” Something rustled on her end, sounding like paper. “… Here it is, the US Spinal Cord Rehabilitation Center. They concentrate on not only treating the injuries, but also providing programs for psychological support and help with physiological limitations. It sounds very nice, Tony. Do you want me to enlist you?”

“Sure,” Tony said, trying to sound nonchalant, but the shock from discovering that his injury had far greater impact on his life than simply ‘I can’t walk anymore’ still resonated in his whole body, so he feared that Pepper heard it nonetheless.

“I’ll give them a call,” she said softly, and he could imagine her smile. “Do you need anything in the meantime?”

“Nothing I and J.A.R.V.I.S. can’t manage on our own, but thanks.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know what will happen next as soon as I know.”

When she ended the call, Tony asked J.A.R.V.I.S. to call for Happy next. His old friend, bodyguard and driver faithfully brought him the fruit he asked for (he’d had a sudden craving for apples), sat with him for the rest of the afternoon and had dinner with him (Tony tried his hand at a family recipe from his Italian nonna for a special sort of spaghetti sauce – it didn’t work out perfectly, partly because he couldn’t comfortably reach the kitchen counter and they didn’t have the proper spices; but it was edible, and still a thousand times better than anything he’d had in Afghanistan). Everything made him feel strangely nostalgic, so he and Happy talked about their long friendship until the night could almost be considered morning. To be honest, he was suddenly afraid of sleeping in his bed. What if he couldn’t get up by himself? What if he lost control over his bladder? What if he had nightmares?

He was being silly of course, and he knew that. But everything still felt very much like a dream – it felt surreal to be home, to talk to friends. Whatever he’d expected, whatever he’d braced himself for, the impact never came.

Pepper called him in the morning, after Happy fell asleep on the couch and Tony had a short nap, while still sitting in his wheelchair.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“Fine. I’m fine,” he lied, because damn, there was a crick in his neck and for a second he’d thought he could feel his feet, but then he almost fell on the floor when he instinctively tried to get up.

“Good. Um, I called the Center I told you about yesterday, and they said that you’d be welcome to arrive anytime you’d like. They’ll be prepared, since you’re not their usual, ambulant patient. I talked to your nurse as well, and went through the whole drill with her, she seems very nice; so please don’t harass her.”

“Aw, Pep, you know me … Virgin Mary reincarnated,” he joked, but she didn’t laugh. “What’s her name?”

“I won’t tell you, or you’ll only cyberstalk her – I won’t let that happen. Anyway, I sent Happy a text with the address, he’ll help you pack some things and bring you any time you want. I’m heading to the Center right now, so I’ll be there too. And don’t worry, if you need anything else, we can always have someone fetch it for you, so …” Underneath her professional tone, he could detect a hint of worry, but he dismissed it and didn’t give it much more thought. It was normal for her to worry about him, after all, she was his PA.

He mentally started to make a list of things to bring to the Center. Among the usual (clothes, toothbrush, his favorite pillow), he also wanted to pack his special StarkPad prototype, through which he would be able to remain in contact with J.A.R.V.I.S., or else he’d probably get bored very quickly. As soon as Happy woke, he asked him to fetch those things and then drive him to the Center – no use in delaying it any more, since he’d already discovered how inhabitable his own home now was.

He didn’t pay much attention to the drive, and took the opportunity for another nap instead. Happy woke him with a soft “Sir, we’re here”, and Tony let him help him get out of the car.

The Center looked very modern – all glass and metal, sharp edges and cool gray color, but it wasn’t the detached kind of modern. In fact, it looked efficient, promising competence and professionalism. Pepper stood at the entrance, clutching her purse with a tight grip.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“No different than this morning,” he replied a bit too sharply, and tried to smooth it out with a smile, but she still exchanged a worried glance with Happy, before leading them inside the building. She led them to the welcome desk and told the receptionist Tony’s name, after which they were told to wait a moment.

“I hope you’ll like it here, Tony,” Pepper said and gripped his shoulder awkwardly. “We’ll come visit you as often as we can.”

“Thanks. Where’s Obie by the way?” he suddenly wondered, not having heard from his old friend since the press conference.

“He talked to me about your announcement, and that the director’s board wasn’t happy. Last night he took a plane to New York to talk with them and sort out some things with the company.”

“Oh, okay.” Tony frowned, slightly offended that Obie hadn’t talked to him about this first, but well. Done was done.

“Mr. Stark.”

Tony looked up and saw a tall man in a light blue nurse uniform approaching them. When he offered his hand, Tony shook it almost reflexively. The hand was surprisingly cool, though not unpleasantly so.

“I’m Loki Orlov, and I will be your nurse and direct contact during your treatment here,” the man said and then turned to greet Pepper, who was visibly keeping herself from gaping. “Miss Potts, I presume?”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she squeaked, but quickly shook his hand. “I … At the phone … I thought you were …”

“A woman?” Loki laughed. “No problem, Miss, I am actually flattered. Not many hear the change.”

“What?” Pepper and Tony blurted in unison.

“I tend to feel inclined to change my gender identity on a rather daily basis. Yesterday I was female, today I am male.”

Pepper opened and closed her mouth like a stranded fish, but Tony recovered quickly. It wasn’t the first time he’d met a transgendered person, after all.

“How interesting,” he said genuinely, only partially to hopefully defuse the situation, but considering the (currently) male nurse’s surprised blink and pleased look, his comment was actually appreciated. Tony could only imagine how other people – patients, even – might have reacted in the past.

“Right.” Loki cleared his throat, clearly fighting a broad grin, and tucked a bundle of folders under his arm. “If there aren’t any more questions, I will show you the room you will be staying in, Mr. Stark, and then we will see when we can make a fist appointment with the doctor, to determine the extent of your injury.”

“When can we visit him?” Pepper asked, before the nurse could lead Tony away.

“Since we’ll be keeping a tight schedule, visitors are allowed once a week.”

“Okay. Until next week, then,” Pepper said to Tony, offering him a tight-lipped smile.

“Aw, Pep, don’t be sad. I’m back and kickin’! Or, well, maybe not kickin’, but you know what I mean,” he joked and winked at her, making her smile more genuinely. In the background, Happy offered Tony a salute, after he handed his bags to a helpful employee of the Center.

“Take care,” Pepper called after him, when he’d managed to turn the wheelchair without Loki’s help and started off in direction of the elevators.

When Tony pushed the button to call the lift, he threw a glance at his nurse, who was seemingly concentrated on scribbling down some notes. He tried to picture him as a woman, and unsurprisingly he could imagine the transformation quite well, even without much makeup. Loki certainly had the body (slim, quite curved, long limbs) and the air of gracefulness, and his black hair had that certain length that didn’t look awkward on men but still looked feminine on women.

The elevator opened with a soft ‘ping’, and Loki entered it without so much as a glance at Tony, who struggled to get his wheelchair rolling without sliding off the seat. The nurse only smiled patiently before pressing a button and clutching his notes to his chest.

“So,” Tony said, to fill the silence. “Does everyone here get personalized treatment? I mean, with you being assigned to me and all.”

“Yes, it is standard procedure.”

“Aw, so I’m not special?” he joked and grinned up at the nurse. Loki’s lips twitched, but he kept a straight face.

“Oh no, you are special. You got me, after all.”

The elevator’s doors opened with another soft ‘ping’, drowned out Tony’s amused huff, and Loki exited the lift, not even making a move to help Tony with his stupid wheelchair. Tony cursed and fought with the wheels, but somehow managed to roll after the nurse, who was leading him to a room that must be his for however long he was going to stay here.

“This is your room,” Loki explained, as expected, and opened the door. “No keys, no locks, but we respect privacy. There is video surveillance in all of the public rooms, elevators, doctors’ offices and hallways, but not in the patients’ rooms.” He gave Tony a gentle nudge, encouraging him to explore the room. It wasn’t big, but there was everything one might need: a bed (with Tony’s bags already on it), a drawer, a table and some chairs, even a sofa. An open doorway lead to the bathroom, which looked spacious. There were heavy curtains drawn in front of the windows, but he could imagine it could get quite bright in here.

“I hope you like it,” Loki continued after a while. “There are some tests I’d need to make before making a doctor’s appointment, but if you want you can rest first.”

“Nah, let’s get it over with.” Tony observed as Loki sat at the table and shuffled his folders.

“Okay, a few questions first: Do you have any sensation at all in your legs?”

“No.”

“Is there any movement in your legs? Can you move your toes, or are there involuntary twitches?”

“Nope.”

Loki made a quick note and hummed.

“How did you injure your back?”

“There was an explosion and I got thrown into the edge of a table. Bam, broken,” Tony tried to joke, but it came out more bitter than he’d intended. Loki only lifted an eyebrow.

“Did anyone perform surgery or do anything else to try and stabilize or treat your injury?”

Tony hesitated at that – no matter how nice Loki seemed, he was still a stranger; so how much could he tell him? He immediately decided to omit Yinsen’s role in everything, since he hadn’t even told Rhodey and Pepper about him.

“They gave me some sort of … wooden bracers to keep my spine straight,” he answered. Which wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the complete truth.

“Okay.” Loki nodded and scribbled something down. “And they gave you a wheelchair?”

“Yeah, but not this one. I think I nicked it from the military,” Tony chuckled.

“Mm, I thought so. It is slightly too broad and heavy to be maneuvered by you, since it is technically not intended for paraplegic patients – I will talk to the doctor and see what model might fit you best.” Concentrated writing. “Were or are there any other injuries that might interfere? Broken ribs, legs, open wounds?”

“Uh,” Tony sighed. Well, then there was no chance of omitting the arc reactor. Not that he actually thought he could hide it here, in a medical facility, where everyone told you to strip all the time, in the non-sexy way. Loki waited patiently though, allowing him the time to gather some courage and the right words. “I’ve got some shrapnel in my chest, and to prevent it from entering my heart I … kind of built an electromagnet that’s now embedded in my sternum. Does that count?”

“What?” Loki blurted, eyes as big as saucers. “May … May I see?”

When Tony uncomfortably fiddled with the seam of his shirt, the nurse held out a reassuring hand.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do it now, though I guess the doctors will have to have a look at it later. Just … Don’t feel pressured, okay?”

“Uh, I’d rather not show it to you right now,” Tony sighed. “It’s … I don’t feel …”

“That is perfectly fine,” Loki assured. “I will have to tell your doctor, though.” He scribbled something and then looked at Tony with a small smile. “I will report him now, and return in a short while to tell you when you will have your first appointment. Do you need anything else right now?”

“Nope.”

“Then I would suggest you make yourself at home. I will see you later, Mr. Stark.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets a glimpse at what his life at the US Spinal Cord Rehabilitation Center will look like for the unforseeable future. At least there's Loki, and his doctor is cool too.

If there was one thing Tony Stark wasn’t used to, it was boredom. His mind and body were restless, his hands needed things to touch, and his mind needed things to ponder, plan and invent. Afghanistan had been Paradise in that aspect – no time to just lounge around or wait, and he had been under pressure to come up with something that could save him and Yinsen. Then it had to be something that could save them and make him walk again. Then it was just something to get him away from everything. But he’d had a billion things to do and not enough time. He loved that, in some ways. Ways apart from guns pointed at him and agonizing pain in his chest and numbness in his lower extremities.

Empty rooms, not matter how bright and comfortable, were the death of Tony Stark, genius inventor and lover of women and fast cars. Here his instruments through which he created were gone; and he didn’t even know if he would ever be able to be with a woman again. Fast cars were less of a problem, he knew about modifications for disabled, and just now about five improvements came to his mind. But he was still bored.

He’d unpacked his things, examined the rooms, drank some water – yuck, it was lukewarm – and suddenly panicked about having to pee. He couldn’t transfer from his wheelchair to the toilet by himself, and peeing his pants was just plain embarrassing. Plus he’d found out that pee started to stink horribly after some time. Yuck again.

He didn’t know what time it had been when he arrived at the Center, or when Loki had left him. He didn’t know when he would come back, or who would come back for him, or what would happen next. More medical examinations, probably. Thinking about it, the nurse hadn’t even taken his pulse, listened to his breathing, or measured his blood pressure or anything. He’d probably been freaked out by Tony telling him about the huge hole in his chest with an electromagnet in it. Figured.

Just when Tony was about to succumb to the itch in his fingers and was about to open the door to his new room, someone knocked.

“Uh, yes?” he called. The door opened and revealed Nurse Loki and a second guy, shorter, maybe Tony’s (former) height, with clever eyes looking at him through a pair of glasses. Well, this had to be his doctor, then.

“Mr. Stark, this is Dr. Bruce Banner – he will be your doctor during your stay here,” Loki said in a light, friendly tone, probably in reaction to what Tony feared was an unwelcoming expression on his face.

“Nice to meet you,” he greeted the man with his best press-grin and held out his hand. The doctor shook it with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Likewise, Mr. Stark,” Dr. Banner said. “You probably won’t remember it, but we’ve met before, at a medical conference in Boston.”

“Oh Jesus, wait a second, uh, Boston? Tell me the year.”

“That must have been five years ago. Ah, I’m sure you won’t know it anymore, you meet so many people, I wasn’t important.”

“No, wait, I think … Banner, Banner … I’m thinking … radiology? Proton therapy, to fight cancer?”

“Oh!” The doctor blinked a few times. “Yes, actually. I was there to present a prototype.”

“Fascinating!”

But before Tony could spill out his knowledge about proton rays and share it with someone who would understand him, Loki interrupted them by loudly undoing the Velcro on the blood pressure meter.

“Please hold out your left arm, Mr. Stark.”

Dr. Banner looked between Tony and the nurse with a knowing smile, before nodding once. The cuff closed around Tony’s arm and tightened.

“133/86,” Loki murmured and wrote it down. “Your other arm please, Mr. Stark.”

Tony obliged with an indulgent smile.

“Mm, right arm … 135/85.”

“Prehypertension,” Dr. Banner murmured, and Loki nodded. “We will have to measure your blood pressure a few more times to be sure, but Loki will make sure you will get low-fat, low-sodium and high potassium diet. Exercise will be provided anyway, alcohol is prohibited, and by the look of it weight is not a problem with you. Still, we will have to monitor this.”

“Okay …” Alcohol was prohibited? Lucky him, Afghanistan didn’t have any booze either, so at least he wouldn’t suffer from the withdrawal effects now. But the rest sounded pretty boring. “So no cheeseburgers?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Stark,” Loki said with a grin that was more teeth than anything else. It would have been scary, if Tony wasn’t sure nurses were friendly people.

“Loki also told me about a … wound in your sternum?” Dr. Banner asked tentatively. “I am not a specialist, but we could have someone come and take a look.”

“Um, well, technically a doctor already looked at it, but, uh …”

“Right now I would just make sure there is no risk of an infection,” the doctor said reassuringly. “Could you show us please?”

Tony preened a bit, self-conscious about the thing in his chest, the thing that was quite literally his heart, exposed like a live wire. But there was no hiding it here. So he slowly dragged his AC/DC shirt over his head and anxiously waited for the doctor and the nurse to speak.

“Are you in pain, Mr. Stark?” Loki asked first, eyes mercifully not on the electromagnet. His gaze was soft and neutral. No pity. Tony breathed out in relief.

“I can’t sleep on it – pressure is bad. And if I sweat a lot it gets itchy, but not so much anymore. I guess that’ll go away in time.”

“If I understood right, there is shrapnel in your torso,” Dr. Banner then said and gently prodded at the scarred tissue with rubber-gloved hands. He was very gentle about it – it almost tickled. “With the technology at our disposal we could do an operation and remove them.”

“I’m not comfortable with that,” Tony immediately said, lying the half-truth, which earned him a look from Loki. Whether the nurse had caught him in his lie or simply disapproved he could not tell.

“Well, I would still recommend having a specialist look at it, but of course it is your decision in the end.” Loki noted Dr. Banner’s words and scribbled something on his notepad, as the doctor removed his gloves and stepped back. “If you would follow us now, Mr. Stark, we are going to take measurements for the fitting of a wheelchair, and then we will perform some further tests to determine how to proceed.”

“O-okay …” He gladly let his shirt fall down again and labored to get his darned wheelchair going when Dr. Banner held open the door and Loki once more rushed ahead without caring much for his difficulties. Though this was probably part of the experience here – get help if you need it, but otherwise please figure things out yourself.

Dr. Banner’s office slash treatment roomwas a bright, modern thing with a small desk, computers and a cot for the patients to lie down, subjecting themselves to the practices of their doctor. Loki apparently had his own chair, which he immediately plopped into, already scribbling like mad. Suddenly, Tony felt self-conscious about the way he moved. The nurse was probably recording every motoric problem he had just so they could improve upon those later in physical training.

“Loki?” Dr. Banner called softly, and the nurse hummed a confirmation before setting his notes aside and rising. “Mr. Stark, we will now be helping you onto the cot, so we can better take your measurements.”

Actually doing that was far less awkward and embarrassing than Tony would have thought. Loki’s and Dr. Banner’s hands were steady, strong and they were obviously used to hauling helpless people around. The measurements were actually taken quite quickly – his proportions, length of his legs, and width of his hips and so on and so forth. Dr. Banner handled the measuring tape, Loki was scribbling again. The cot was apparently also able to measure his weight, which then was written down as well. Tony began to see a pattern there. For a second he wondered about the nurse’s handwriting. Was it as messy as doctors’ chicken scratches? Or elegant and fluid like his appearance?

“I am going to perform a few sensory tests now, Mr. Stark, but in order for those to work we will need you take off your pants.”

“Okay. Uh, dunno if I can do it by myself.”

“Are you comfortable with me doing it for you this time?” Loki offered.

“Alright.”

He queasily watched as Loki skillfully opened the belt, button and fly of his jeans before simultaneously lifting one dead leg and pulling the jeans off of it. Tony doubted it took longer than ten seconds. And then he wondered how many times Loki undressed men. And then his mind went into the gutter. How convenient that some more treacherous parts of his body were unresponsive. How desperate was he anyway, that he feared sporting a boner due to a nurse undressing him? God, he’d fallen low.

He tried to peek down the length of his body without actually lifting his head after he recovered from his mental excursion and saw Dr. Banner move his hand to his belly.

“Tell me if you can feel this or not.” He started to press down.

“Yup. Can feel.”

“Good. And here?” His hand had moved a bit lower, almost to the waistband of his boxers. Luckily they were a neutral black and not pink with red hearts or something.

“Uh, it tickles.”

“And this?” He pressed both hands to the sides of Tony’s hips. Tony swallowed, blinking.

“No, I-I can’t. Wow, that’s strange. Seeing you do it and … just not feeling.”

“Okay. Loki, would you …?”

Loki’s deft hands quickly helped him sit on the edge of the cot and stabilized him when he had problems with his balance.

“I am going to test your reflexes now.” Dr. Banner fetched a familiar looking little hammer and placed a hand on Tony’s thigh. The hammer hit his knee, and the leg twitched.

“Wow, this actually still happens?” Tony asked, perplexed. “I thought …”

“It is a reflex, which means that the information is not delivered from the nerve to the brain and back, but instead takes a shorter path,” Dr. Banner explained. “In your case this path from the knee to the spinal cord is not interrupted, which tells us a lot about your injury.”

“I see.”

“Very good. We should actually have a default wheelchair stashed away somewhere that should fit you quite well. Any complaints about it can be brought to Loki here or Nurse Natasha, who is his substitution whenever he’s off duty.”

“I’ll get you two acquainted tomorrow,” Loki chimed in.

“Cool. She hot?”

Loki gave a crooked grin at that and raised an eyebrow, but efficiently helped Dr. Banner haul him back into his wheelchair.

“Didn’t I say I was the most special nurse here?”

“Doesn’t answer the question, babe.”

“She’s hot, I guess,” he sighed and fluffed his hair. “I wouldn’t hit on her though. She’s scary.”

“Ooh, hot and scary.” Tony wolf-whistled. “Sexy combo there.”

“If you’ve got a death wish.”

“Okay,” Dr. Banner cut in, voice stern and hard, but the amused tilt of his mouth gave him away. “Mr. Stark, if you would follow us again, we are going to take an X-ray of your spine now. Loki will bring your pants.”

He led them through a door into an adjacent room, where the huge apparatus stood, looming over another cot. Again, Dr. Banner and Loki hauled him onto it – face down this time – and the doctor adjusted the machine while Loki protected the areas of Tony’s body that would not get X-rayed with lead-filled pieces of cloth.

“Please lie still and try to breathe as regularly and calmly as possible. We will be right outside this door. Call out if you are uncomfortable or need anything. It will only take a moment,” Loki informed him gently, before he and Dr. Banner left the room. The machine beeped once, and a few seconds later they were already back. Wow.

“What, it’s over already?” Tony joked and tried not to look like a fool while Loki got the lead-cloth off him and helped him back into his jeans. Geez, he felt like an invalid. Oh. But he was one. Well, that was awkward.

“I am going to review the results now,” Dr. Banner said, the X-ray image already in hand. “But since it’s already late, Loki will bring you back to your room. Somebody will bring you your dinner.”

“I’ll check up on you before ten – after that you are not allowed to leave your room except for emergencies. We all need our night’s sleep.” Loki smiled. “Breakfast is around seven, since physical therapy usually begins at eight. Tomorrow is still your grace period, though, so you can sleep in.”

“In the afternoon I will visit you to discuss your therapy plan, though, so don’t sleep _that_ late,” Dr. Banner joked.

“That should be fine,” Tony replied with a relieved grin. Grace period. Sweet. If it weren’t for that damned boredom. “One question though – do you have wifi?”

It turned out they did. One or two tricks and he could tap into it, which – once back in his room and Loki gone – he immediately perused to contact J.A.R.V.I.S. and download pieces of him onto his StarkPad.

“Good evening, Sir.”

“Good to hear your voice, buddy.”

“And yours, Sir. Do you wish to contact Miss Potts?”

“Yeah, just tell her I’m fine. Seems like it’s an okay place to be.”

“I will notify you the moment Miss Potts replies.”

“Thanks J.”

Hands down? Despite orange juice, fried potatoes, broccoli and steamed tomatoes for dinner, this evening was by far the best he’d had in months. No, scratch that. It had been the best _day_ by far. Loki was cool, Dr. Banner seemed to be a good doctor, and they made him feel confident about recovery. Having J.A.R.V.I.S. here, no matter at how small a capacity, was the best thing though.

Tony 1 – boredom 0.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is suddenly not Loki anymore but Loki instead. Hot rod red wheelchairs are cool. Tony starts his physiotherapy. Shit's about to hit the fan.

When Loki had helped him into bed last night just before ten he had already been tired. A decent meal, soft bed, fluffy pillows, a safe environment and previous sleepless nights could do that to a man, even a chronic insomniac like him. So when he woke up the next day to female voices in his room and curtains being drawn to let the sunlight in, he was, mildly put, quite surprised.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark.”

He turned his head and blinked blearily up at a familiar, yet somehow unidentifiable, female face. Where was he? How did he get here? This wasn’t his bed in Malibu, for sure.

Then everything came crashing down upon him. Afghanistan. Yinsen. His injury. The arc reactor and the suit. Yinsen’s death. His escape. Rhodey. His Malibu home. The Rehab facility. That’s where he was.

“Mr. Stark,” the person repeated, more slowly. He blinked a few more times and realized that this was Loki. Just not as a man, like he’d been the day before, but as a woman.

“Hey girl,” he rasped and drew in his elbows to fight himself into a sitting position. Her small but brilliant smile warmed his mechanical heart.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, put down a tray with orange juice, caramelized fruit, toast and fried bacon, and sashayed over to another woman, clad in the same light blue nurse’s uniform. She had chin-long puffy red hair and soft, round features.

“Uh, yeah. Think so,” Tony mumbled past his mouthful of toast.

“Good.” Loki picked up her by now signature clipboard and pointed at the other woman. “This is Nurse Natalie Rushman, my stand-in for whenever I’m off duty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tony said. She held out a slender hand, but her handshake was strong and curt. It almost made the bones in Tony’s hand rub against each other. Yeah, Loki said she was scary.

“Likewise, Mr. Stark.” Then she addressed Loki: “I’m gonna do James’ checkup today, so you can finish things here.”

“Thank you, Nat.”

“Sure thing, sweet. You are in good hands,” she stage-whispered the last part to Tony and he laughed.

“I already figured.”

“Now shoo, красавица.”

Natalie laughed and shook her head, throwing back over her shoulder as she exited: “I know enough Russian to know that this wasn’t an expletive, so I’ll take it as a compliment, _beautiful_.”

Tony grinned at the huge eye roll Loki did.

“So you’re Russian?” he asked her.

“I like to pretend I am. Gender-sensitive surnames, you know.”

“Ah.” Tony licked his caramel-coated lips and rolled his shoulders that were getting stiff from having to keep himself upright with his arms. Loki seemed lost in thoughts, however, and only tore herself out of her reverie when Tony cleared his throat. He didn’t want to be insensitive, but Loki usually seemed to be a professional. And that was also obvious in the way she handled the empty tray and helped him change into a loose outfit that would allow him maximum freedom of movement.

“Um, I wanted to ask …” He waited until Loki finished tugging a sock onto his unresponsive, limp foot. “How do I shower? Not- … Not that I want to have a shower right now,” he hurried to assure when she sent him an exasperated look along with a raised second sock.

“I can show you tonight. But the logistics are relatively straightforward. There are special shower wheelchairs or normal chairs that do not rust and have no sharp edges. You sit in those and wash yourself, from head to toe. At first I’ll be there to help you, but with time you’ll be able to do it yourself, just like dressing yourself, going to the bathroom and other stuff. That’s what you’re here to learn.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Anyways, I’ll accompany you almost 24/7 until you gained some mobility and autonomy. Dr. Banner is going to start on your physiotherapy today, so he’ll explain a lot too. Basically you’re going to re-learn how to move your body.” Loki gave his knee a pat and bent to retrieve something on the floor. “Which is why …” She did some complicated moves and revealed a shiny wheelchair. “… I brought you your new personal vehicle. Do you want to try it out?”

“Sure. Does it go from zero to one hundred in less than 2 seconds?”

“I’m afraid not.” She grimaced, as if she were really sorry.

“C’mon baby, gimme something here! At least tell me if I’ll be allowed to varnish it a sexy hot rod red. If possible some gold accents. I can see it in front of me, it’s going to be awesome. Ooh,” he thrust his hand under his pillow, remembering his StarkPad there. “I can ask J.A.R.V.I.S. to do it for me. Just tell him where you got the wheelchair from, and he’ll do the rest.”

Loki blinked at the tabled held out to her and jumped, when a cool British voice said: “Good morning, miss. Please enter a firm name, address or a retailer.”

“Um … I … Hello?”

“Nurse Loki Orlova, meet the mechanical and electrical son of my brains, J.A.R.V.I.S. J, baby, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“I am an artificial intelligence, short AI. My name, J.A.R.V.I.S., is an acronym for ‘Just A Rather Very Intelligent System’. As you can see, sir has no ego whatsoever.”

Tony snorted and let the tablet with mini-J.A.R.V.I.S. fall back on his lap.

“Yeah, he’s got snark. Don’t ask me where he got it from though. He’s a learning AI, so he could’ve picked it up anywhere really.”

“I’m … wow …” Loki shook her head. “Okay, uh, back to topic, I could send a request to the manufacturer, or … get you in touch with them.”

“Got a name?”

Loki told J.A.R.V.I.S. the manufacturer’s company name, and the AI promised Tony to look into it. One hot rod red wheelchair coming up.

“Now we should hurry, I’m sure Dr. Banner is waiting already,” Loki said and helped Tony into the wheelchair, which would only temporarily be black, he comforted himself. But when he tried to steer it in the direction of the door it swerved madly and he almost fell on the floor because his foot slipped off the foothold and got dragged under it.

“And this is why there’s a built-in tilt protection for now,” Loki explained and helped him get into position again. “It prevents the wheelchair from tipping and throwing you off until you learn how to control it.”

And because getting to know the new wheelchair was part of today’s program, Loki granted him a grace period and offered to push him to Dr. Banner’s office. Tony was secretly glad, but puffed out his chest and jutted out his chin like a king, declaring that he could get used to having pretty girls driving him wherever he wanted.

“What about pretty men?” Loki replied, letting her voice drop into that lower pitch _he_ used as opposed to _her_. Tony felt the small hair on his arms and neck rise at that.

“I wouldn’t say no to those either,” he shot back with a grin, but he couldn’t see Loki’s expression in response to that. He could only hear her amused chuckle.

-:-

Tony wasn’t some scrawny kid with no muscle, and he wasn’t overweight either. So he didn’t even want to imagine what physiotherapy had to be like for those types, because _damn_ his arms were sore, he had a crick in his neck and his shoulders felt like they were twice their size. Also, ow, _blisters_.

“Can’t you give me gloves or something?” Tony growled, reproachfully showing Loki his reddened and swollen palms. And he thought he’d had calloused hands already.

“No,” the nurse said sternly. “We’re not going to coddle you now just so you can’t face life on your own later. Would you want to wear gloves the whole day? You need to be able to steer your wheelchair without them.”

Tony grumbled unhappily, but had to admit that it was sound logic. Dr. Banner had also kindly pointed out the reasons for every exercise he did with them – Tony was assigned to a group of four others, which approximately were at the same stage of healing as he was – and it was all very basic still. Torso, back, arms, hands, vertical and horizontal, building up strength was crucial at this stage. Without it they couldn’t start on more difficult things like transferring out of and into the wheelchair. At the moment it was still too hard to keep his balance whenever he had to apply force on an object, be it a door, the wheelchair or whenever he tried to pick something up. Another thing they were learning was basic wheelchair control, like driving straight lines, even circles or a zigzag line. It was all about learning the new dimensions of his body plus wheelchair. Speed, length, width, eight distribution. Trial and error was as much part of the training as the drill.

“Again,” Dr. Banner would say whenever he fell, and Loki would unceremoniously pick Tony up from the floor and dump him in the wheelchair, leaving the re-arranging of his limbs to himself.

“I won’t help you, because someday there won’t be anyone to help you. Try again.”

“You have to practice this on your own.”

“Helping you would mean to impair your learning experience.”

“Again.”

“Do it again.”

“Repeat fifteen times on each side.”

“Again, and again, and again.”

“Wear your bruises proudly, they’re a mark of your progress.”

“Very good. Now do it again.”

A whole week passed with trembling arms, blistered fingers, bruised hips and sweat-slick palms. Dr. Banner was a calm, stern presence, always on the move. You think you can rest because he’s giving advice to the girl with multiple sclerosis? Nope, he’s right in your face whenever you’re shaking out your arms or blowing on your burning hands.

In contrast to this stood Loki’s professional stance that cracked from time to time and revealed a geeky goofball who loved waving his limbs in time with them or who laughed her ass off rolling on the floor with him whenever he lost his balance again. Tony learned to appreciate his mischievousness and her kind not-pity for him that always seemed to get him to double his efforts. Once he’d been off duty and Nurse Natalie accompanied to his physiotherapy training, but it was a thousand times less fun than with Loki.

After a week Pepper came by to see how he was doing, and he showed off his skills in the wheelchair.

“You’re never gonna outrun me again, Pep!” he laughed, driving mad circles around her in the foyer. The carpet was slowing him down slightly, but at least he managed to make her smile.

“That’s amazing, Tony,” she said and thanked Loki, who stood a few paces away, his trademark clipboard tucked under one arm.

“He’s a hardworking patient. His success is his alone,” the nurse replied.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Tony puffed out his chest and stuck out his tongue.

“Um, could we speak alone for a moment?” Pepper asked suddenly, her whole demeanor different. She fidgeted with the seam of her blazer, and if that wasn’t cause for alarm then nothing was. Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts never fidgeted.

“I will check up on you after lunch, Mr. Stark,” Loki immediately said.

“What’s up, Pep? Is it about … I don’t know. What is it?” Tony asked as soon as the nurse disappeared behind the closing doors of the elevator.

“Let’s, um, go somewhere less public, maybe. I hear the gardens are nice.”

Suspicious and a bit worried Tony led her through a door and into the vast inner yard with large trees, shrubbery and cute little benches. He hadn’t been here often yet, but Loki had insisted on showing it to him one evening. It really was nice, but the atmosphere was overshadowed by whatever troubled Pepper.

“Okay,” he huffed once she chose a bench to sit on. “Spit it out.”

“The board of directors has filed an injunction.”

Tony reeled.

“A what?”

“The board is claiming PTSD. They want to lock you out. They’re making the case that you … and your new direction aren’t in the company’s best interest.” Her tone was cold and detached, but the way she pinched her lips and kneaded the cloth of her skirt between her fingers told him that she was more than upset. She was _afraid_. And Pepper Potts was the bravest, strongest, no-bullshit person he knew; nothing could make her afraid. Or rather, if something could, then Tony was probably going to be shitting his pants in a few moments.

“There’s more isn’t there.”

“It’s … I don’t know. I have … I don’t have any proof, but J.A.R.V.I.S. is helping me with that.” She threw a look over her shoulder. “Tony, I think it was Obie.”

“What? What was Obie?”

“The double dealing, your abduction, _this_ … Everything, Tony. I think … I think he’s trying to get rid of you.” Now there were tears glistening in her eyes, and it made his chest clench until he felt like he was going to drop on the floor.

“Pep, he’s my oldest friend, he’s, he’s more of a father than my father ever was, are you _sure_?” he whispered, gripping the hand rests of his wheelchair until he couldn’t feel his fingertips anymore, but a small voice in his head told him that _oh, Tony, but you already knew he was gutting you slowly, intimately, and now that you’ve shut down weapons manufacturing there’s nothing left to get,_ and _he will bury you where not even you can find yourself._

“There’s more,” she murmured. “He sent people over, he’s trying to find something. A weapon, I believe. Tony, what did you do? How did you escape?”

A weapon. Tony almost laughed, but there was the taste of sand on his tongue and the sound of Yinsen’s death, and _don’t waste your life_.

“A high-tech prosthesis. It was just a high-tech prosthesis. Scrapped, torn and buried in the desert. He can’t do anything with it.” He swallowed, blinked. “It’s the arc reactor he wants.”

Pepper’s eyes immediately dropped to the spot where light blue light should shine through the fabric of his shirt if not for the gauze he wrapped over it.

“He’s going to come for you, sooner or later,” she warned him. “Don’t get too comfortable in here. Walls have eyes and ears.” And then, after a pause: “Don’t trust anyone.”

“I can trust Loki. And Dr. Banner,” Tony insisted, but she shook her head, leaning forward.

“I had J.A.R.V.I.S. dig deeper this morning. Before, I just checked his credentials, but Tony … There’s something off about Loki. I don’t even think that’s his real name.”

“That’s not unusual among transgendered and bigendered people.”

“No, there’s more, it just doesn’t add up. There’s almost nothing on him before age 19 or so, only the bare minimum. I couldn’t even find out where he was born or what nationality he was before he became an US-citizen.”

“I don’t know, I trust him.”

“Yes, and he seems like a nice person, but …” She ran a hand over her tightly bound hair. “Even if he’s not working for Obie – especially then – he’d be in danger. Everyone here would be in danger. I really don’t know what Obie is planning.”

Tony took a deep breath and let it out between his teeth with a hiss.

“Okay, I’m going to update J.A.R.V.I.S.’ code, give him some extra calculating power, so he can help you investigate. Hook up some additional processors to his core. We need intel. Proof. Anything.”

“Right, got it.”

“I’m also going to work on something else,” he said and thought _aerodynamics, thrust power, repulsor tech, alloysmaybegoldtitanium, a HUD, IneedJ.A.R.V.I.S.todocalculations._ His brain ran full speed for the first time since the day he’d crashed somewhere in the Registan desert.

Obie wanted to play? Well shit, Tony never once lost a single game of chess in his life.

This was going to be fun.


End file.
